


Before Captain America there was Steve Rogers

by DrCHolmesLecter



Series: Burn my body and crush my soul if you must, for I care for no one but one... [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Loki, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Feels, Multi, Not Really Character Death, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Self-Esteem Issues, Steve Angst, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrCHolmesLecter/pseuds/DrCHolmesLecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd like to think he's not alone but the constant feeling of something missing keeps him from thinking positively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Captain America there was Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Finally done with Valvi's (Steven's) story after falling. Most of the speech are from the actual movie verse so yes it does remotely follow the canon.

Steven liked to think he wasn’t alone. His mother has always been there for him. ‘Be an honest and good man’ was what his mother told him but can he really proudly say that he was a good man? He’s not perfect, no one is, not even the priest who speaks the word of God every Sunday in a Church down the road. Steven has done bad things, terrible things even; he might as well have killed a man a thousand times. He’s done everything he could to get his mother’s medicine, to pay for their housing and food.

His mother had found out.

He’d tried to find a more ‘honest’ job after that. He got beaten up, nearly killed once he decided to leave and that’s when he met Bucky, his best friend. He’s helped them with the payments and everything else especially during his mother’s death.

He’s not alone, he keeps telling himself that but he can’t help but wonder what’s missing in his life. He’s sure there’s something because it keeps him up every night. That dawning feeling of longing for someone, someone so out of reach, someone who needs him and wants him. 

 

Who is he kidding? Who would want a ninety-pound weakling?

 

-

 

_Norway – March, 1942_

Their soldiers, their machines reigned nothing but fire upon the town. People continued to scream for their lives, for their fears and for their loss. The man stands in room, a younger man by his side. He notices the fear in the boy’s eyes; he had no time to tell him to flee before an explosion breaks the concrete wall open. The boy left bleeding on the floor.

The town was so quiet now, nothing but smoke and dark clouds surrounded this once peaceful town.

Schimdt stands before him, mighty and proud. He tries to display the same but his age fails him, there’s only so much he could do. He tries to stop them, giving them a warning but they paid him no attention. Words continuously fell onto deaf ears.

“Fool. You cannot control the power you hold. You will burn.”

A small smile appears on the side of Schimdt’s face, so sinister and so proud.

“I already have.”

 

-

 

Rogers continued reading the newspaper, he was nervous, of course he was, the men before him well they were what people considered as _men_ , not like him. He tried not to show it, he never would. He’s seen too much to be swayed so easily. Far too much.

“Boy, a lot of guys getting killed over there.”

He hears his name being called out.

“Makes you think twice about enlisting, huh?”

Steven tries not to show his disgust, his irritation, tried to bottle it all up. It’ll do him no good so instead he smiles and replies with one word. “Nope.”

 

 

Steven crumples another declined enlisted form in his hand and throws it, only for it to hit a wall and roll back to his feet. The small man sighs in defeat and picks it up, gently opening up the ball of paper. He heads to the park nearby and takes out his art materials. Steven begins to draw the same face as his previous drawings. He tried hard to imagine the man with different expressions but his imagination limited him to the same brokenhearted look.

Rogers gave up after he couldn’t fully get into the mood and headed to the theaters instead. Within a couple of minutes the man gets into yet another fight. It wasn’t his fault. Something halts the other man. He stares in disbelief and curiosity. Then he sees Bucky pulling the man away, was he the one who halted the man? Couldn’t have been, it felt like some invisible force had blocked the man’s punch and froze him in the space.

“Sometimes I think you like getting punched.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “I had him on the ropes.”

“Whatever, you say. Come on I’ve got us dates.”

 

-

 

He’s tired of it already, he really is. He understands that they don’t like him because of the way he looks but is it so damn hard to actually have the decency to look passed that? He watches a man, much taller and bulkier than he is standing on a platform, the picture lighting up as his face appears on the glass as if he was the leader of the army.

It took him several seconds before he finally places his feet on the platform. The same thing happens except only half his face appears on the space.  He scowls in annoyance. Why is it so hard to just belong? He wants to be so much more, prove himself worthy. He can do it if they would just let him! Bucky gives him a disapproving look.

“There are men laying their lives. I got no right to do any less than them.”

“Right, so you’re not doing this just to prove something?”

“This isn’t about me!"

“Right.”

Steve frowns at his best friend’s retreating figure. The man had never understood. He’d always made fun of the way he talked about his occurring dreams about a dark haired man with piercing green eyes. Always laughed at his constant sketches of the same man. The man who looked so broken and lost in his dreams, someone who _wanted him_ , _needed him_.

 

He _wanted_ to be strong enough, _needed_ to be strong enough to fight and protect the one person he will love and he couldn’t do it like this.

 

-

 

Steven couldn’t keep up with the training, it was a strain on his body and his breathing became harder to perform. A voice keeps him going, not sure whether it was his subconscious or not. There are times when he thinks he’s crazy, hearing voices, seeing a figure that isn’t there, other times he would just ignore it or transfer the image in his sketchbook. He hears the voice again once as he removes a piece of the flagpole, allowing it to fall on the ground with a loud thump.

_“You always were so clever.”_

Steven squirmed in his seat and gave a quick smile to Margaret Carter before she turned to face the front once again. Their training resumed, his body slowly giving up on him. He hears her shouting but the words never registered in his mind, he was far too busy listening to voice in his head. One word breaks him away from the trance and he pushes himself to catch the grenade.

“Stay away!” He shouts and covers the grenade with his body.

A familiar presence lingers just in front of him. Why won’t he leave? Damn it! Leave!

“Get back!” He shouts once again, trying to get the raven-haired man to leave, imagination or not, he doesn’t want to see the man burn or get hurt.

 

-

 

The words of Dr. Erskine linger in his head. ‘A good man’ he says, the same words as his mother’s. “A good man, huh?”

He stares at his hands, seeing the way it would be covered in blood. Paler hands covers his own, his body stiffening at the sudden action. His green-eyed man stands before him, a small smile on his face.

“You are and will always be that.”

“I can feel you.”

The man nods.

“That’s never happened before.”

The man caresses his cheek, a frowned upon action between two men but he didn’t care.

“Who are you?” Finally disturbing the silence. The man stands up and Steven couldn’t help but sigh with discontent from the loss of the man’s touch.

“We will properly meet soon, my love.” He turns to leave only to halt and turn back. “Stay as who you are for I would loose all hope if all of you is lost.”

 

-

 

Steven tries not to pay any attention to their scrutinizing looks or their comments; he has his imaginary friend for that. He cleared his throat to cover his laugh as the man obviously did something to create that screeching noise in the room above.

 

His body ached, his heart thumped louder, he can feel every muscle stretching as he screamed.

_“Shut it down! Shut it down you imbeciles!”_

But nobody could hear his screams. The man in leather armor conjures something, ready to blow the controls.

“No! Don’t!” Those green eyes bore into his, pleading but he didn’t give in.

“I can do this.”

 

The man disappears.

 

-

 

He became a dancing monkey after that. After all this and this is what happen, a mere costumed hero, ready to sing and dance. He wishes for his raven-haired friend to appear but he doesn’t not since the serum. Was he not pleased?

“Are those your only two options?”

Steven glares at his drawings.

“A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“It’s what I’m good at.” He’s always been the laughing stock, the little runt next to Bucky, and the man so small and foolish to pick fights.

“You were meant for more than this, you know.”

 

-

 

Steve fought, he freed men, protected his country but he still felt incomplete. Their cheers, their smiling faces, there was something missing. He kissed a dame, flirted with Peggy, gained new friends but there was still something else missing. Bucky questions him about his dreams but they were never the same, he sees himself tortured, beaten by men he didn’t know. His raven-haired man never appeared until that day. 

Bucky held on, he tried but the handle gave way. He sees a figure diving after Bucky but his friend never reappeared, only a disheveled man with dark bags under his eyes.

 _“I’m sorry.”_ Was all he says before he disappears, again.

 

-

 

Rogers continued to fight, he chased after death, ready to leave this wretched world. His relationship with Peggy grew but even she couldn’t stop him. He was reckless, he knew that but it helped freed more men and they came back with fewer casualties so nobody really complained. Hydra bases disappeared one by one but he still didn’t have Schimdt.

 

-

 

The sky opens before them, stars shining bright as Schimdt held the tesseract in his hand. The man’s flesh started peeling but that’s not what caught his attention. Somewhere far beyond the light, in the darkness, a few figures stands above them. One figure, he knew so well.

_“Save him!”_

_“I have no business with the mortal. Get the tesseract.”_

_“Save the Captain and I will do as you say! Please!"_

_A blade appears from thin air and the creature presses it against the raven-haired man’s neck._

_“You are nothing but a filthy servant. Do you forget who has given you the choice to live?” The creature spat in disdain._

His friend was ready to argue back, he could tell from those green eyes except they were no longer green as Steven blinked. Schimdt continued to burn and something sinister appears on his friend’s face. Something cruel and evil.

 

The Captain wasted no time getting behind the control, trying to find a way to work out what each thing did. Why wasn’t he taught how to fly a goddamn plane?! He felt at loss on what to say to Peggy, a good bye seemed too definite. He still continued to hope the man will appear and save him or SSR will find him in time. So he makes a little deal, a promise, for them to dance. She wasn’t his right partner, he knew that but he knew he could grow to love Peggy just as much, given the time. Something he knew he longer had.

 

-

 

The water hits him; he could feel his system shutting down.

 

He sees himself with children wearing strange clothing, he sees himself by a meadow next to his green-eyed man. He sees himself in room being cruelly turned down, hears the cries of his imaginary friend as he tried to fight his way through the guards trying to save him. He felt strong hands pushing him into the edge, far too tired to fight back. _He’s safe._ His doppelganger repeats in his head as the figure falls into the abyss.

“Loki, I'm okay, I'm o-“

 

 The cold enveloped the Captain's body, his eyes shutting as memories of his past life relived itself, completely. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot longer than I anticipated but what did you guys think?


End file.
